


It Started With A Bet

by soundofthesurf



Category: Take That
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-22
Updated: 2013-01-22
Packaged: 2017-11-26 11:23:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/650009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soundofthesurf/pseuds/soundofthesurf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Christmas is a time for wishes to come true - only question is: do Howard and Jason wish for the same?</p><p>
  <i>Then at a party in the ITV studios in London, England, three days before Christmas in the year of our Lord 2011, Howard Donald of Take That has an epiphany...<i></i></i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	It Started With A Bet

**Author's Note:**

  * For [therescuingtype](https://archiveofourown.org/users/therescuingtype/gifts).



> This is my contribution to the 2012 Take-That-Slash Secret Santa and it's for the lovely jennicide. It's a lot of light-hearted fluff with a bit of nervousness, a clever Mark, and a bit of random silliness. Almost all foul language has been removed after someone who used foul language got a cosh around the head from his mum. 
> 
> Expertly, kindly and absolutely last-minute beta-ed by the wonderful przed.

Howard can’t believe it. He’d really thought the curse was broken. But no, 23 years he’s known him now and still Jason wins almost all the bets about Robbie. So maybe Howard could’ve guessed that this one bet he’d won, the one where Rob didn’t show up at the reunion meeting, was the exception from the rule, nothing more. It’s still gutting, and that’s the most polite way Howard can think of it.

“50 quid he won’t.”  
Jason had almost accepted, but then hesitated. “No, How, not for money, that’s…”  
“Too mainstream?”  
“Too childish. He’s our friend, right?”  
Howard should’ve known Jason would take this very seriously. “Okay then. Suggest something else…”  
“We can each request something from the other. Your choice first, you’re offering.”  
That was new between them, before it had always been money. But money wasn’t something they were short of anymore, so that didn’t offer much of a challenge any longer.  
“Right…” Howard had tilted his head thoughtfully, before a big smile emerged on his face, wide and bright and sunny. “When I win, you’ll come to Nando’s with me…” Jason had rolled his eyes at that, “…three times! Five times if he turns down money!” Howard had offered his hand and wondered how Jason would want to top his innovation to the bet.  
Jason hadn’t faltered very long, though, and back then Howard had thought that deep inside Jay loved Nando’s and secretly was looking forward to having an excuse to go there. With hindsight, Howard’s now fully aware that he had just been absolutely sure he’d win.  
“When I win I want a Christmas present.”  
“That’s all?” Howard had frowned.  
“Yeah, that’s all.”

It had almost appeared to be too easy. They’d shook hands and Jason had looked him deep in the eyes, meaningful, affectionate, and maybe with a little bit of poor-silly-bastard, but Howard had just laughed it away.

And then Robbie had mooned the fans in Denmark.

* * *

“I wasn’t even there to see it!”  
“It’s on YouTube, shall I send you the link?”  
“All of a sudden you know how the internet works, eh?”  
“Comes in handy…”  
“How do I know you didn’t tell him to do it?”  
“Ask Rob, Mark, Gary, Jodie, Jonathan, watch Mark’s face while he’s doing it…or you could just trust I wouldn’t do something like that.”  
“Okay, okay…sorry…”

With any two other human beings on this planet there would’ve been an uneasy silence now. But between Howard and Jason it’s simply silence. Sitting right next to each other on a sofa in a hotel room in some European country, their feet on the coffee table, their hands around mugs with steaming hot coffee.

“A Christmas present, eh?”  
“Yes.” Jason nods and smiles and takes another sip of coffee and Howard notices he looks almost happy.

* * *

The next two weeks Howard asks absolutely everybody in their entourage what they’d get Jason for Christmas and notes all of their suggestions in his iPhone. On December, 21st, the note “J_Xmas” contains

• 13 books (varying from “a book” to “something classical” to “50 Shades of Grey”)  
• 7 CDs  
• sun lotion  
• a Whole Foods gift voucher  
• “something” from Oxfam (“you know, a goat for someone in Africa or so…”)  
• a Ukulele  
• Manchester City merchandise  
• underwear  
• the official Pink Floyd-calendar  
• the official Robbie Williams-calendar  
• a Mercedes-Benz-keyring  
• the complete DVD-box-set of “Gilmore Girls”  
• a puppy

Not helpful.

Howard frowns and stares at the phone and thinks hard. It shouldn’t be so difficult to find the perfect present for Jason, should it? Not after all these years and all they’ve been through, together, and apart, and…it should be easy. But then why does everything he can think of seem to be kind of…inappropriate?

He sits and lets it all sink in and weighs the thoughts and – with difficulty – acknowledges some inconvenient truths and searches his mind and soul and goes deep down to the heart of the matter, only to find that it all comes down to this: whatever it is he wants to give Jay for Christmas is stuff he usually would only ever consider giving a girlfriend (one of more than 6 months, to be precise). And that is a somewhat weird discovery, Howard thinks. Weird, odd, peculiar, but strangely unsurprising. Which is even weirder.

Then at a party in the ITV studios in London, England, three days before Christmas in the year of our Lord 2011, Howard Donald of Take That has an epiphany.

* * *

Christmas parties, Mark muses, aren’t half as much fun when you have to stay sober. First he followed his fellow teetotaler around, but after a while he couldn’t stand it any longer. Heaven knows how Rob manages to talk all that nonsense with all these drunk people and still have fun. It says a lot that Mark’s decided that sitting at the bar next to a drunk and grumpy Howard is the best he can get out of this party.

“I still don’t really see the problem, How. Why do you put all that pressure on yourself? You know, Jason will appreciate almost anything you get him. Jesus, he’d send the companies who send us the freebies thank-you-letters if we didn’t stop him!”  
Howard looks at him indignantly. “I know that!” His voice gets louder with every word. “But it’s not just a present. It’s got to be…special.”  
Suddenly Mark’s finding this conversation a lot more interesting. “Oh yeah? Why?” he shoots back.  
“Because…” Another indignant look from Howard, only this time for different reasons. Mark could’ve sworn Howard had even blushed a bit.  
“Because?” Mark knows he can be a merciless pain in the arse when he needs to.  
Howard hides by looking into his drink, then by downing his drink, slowly, then doesn’t know how to hide anymore and mumbles something like, “…you know why…”  
“Ah,” Mark states, “that reason.” And giggles. “Then it’s got to be something very special.”  
Howard sighs once more and orders another drink.

Mark turns around on his stool and looks around. There’s Rob, surrounded by a little group of people, dancers, musicians, and the lovely make-up artist from the ITV studios, to name but a few, and he’s telling them some kind of funny story, gesturing, frowning, having them all hang on every word he says. Not too far from him stands Gaz, doing more or less the same, only with less gesturing and frowning, but with a drink in hand. Mark turns his head and searches for Jason only to find him on the dance floor, of course. There’s a little group of people around him as well, but one blonde one is particularly close. Mark figures that this party can’t be too much fun for Howard either.

Gaz has finished his story and on his quest for a new drink approaches the bar slowly, wobbly, grinning at Mark. “Dougie! Markie! Fellow band-mates! Partners in crime! Why are you two saddos sitting ‘round here like old men?!?”  
Howard turns around and shoots him an angry look.  
Gary puts his empty glass down on the bar between them and yells “one fill up, sir, please!” He looks from Mark to Howard to Mark again, grinning sillily.  
“Why so serious? It’s a sodding Christmas party! Merry up!”  
“I can’t stand the party,” Mark says, and adds, pointing at Howard, “and he can’t stand Christmas. Simple as.”  
“Sorry, mate.” Gary pats Mark affectionately on the shoulder. “Really, really sorry…and you, mate”, he turns to Howard, “I’m sorry too…is it because you still have no present for our Jay?”  
Howard nods vaguely.  
The bartender delivers Gary’s drink. Gary picks it up, takes a sip, giggles, then says, “Why don’t you just put a ribbon around that blonde one”, he gestures in the general direction of the dance floor, “and get her delivered to his place on Christmas Eve?” He bursts out laughing, almost spitting Bacardi-coke over a carefully ducking away Mark.  
“Very funny, Gaz, very funny.” Howard turns around again, for another round of intensively inspecting his drink.  
Gary frowns, mouths “very funny, Gaz, very funny”, in an overly dramatic way, until he gets shooed away by a no-nonsense Mark.

“He doesn’t know what he’s saying, How, he’s totally pissed.”  
“Maybe he’s right, maybe that is the perfect present.”  
“Oh, come on…”  
“No, seriously. You know what they say? Little children and drunks always tell the truth.”

There’s a bitterness in Howard’s voice that makes Mark shudder. And that makes him think. And finally say something he’d never thought he’d say while being sober.  
“Maybe the idea isn’t all that bad, after all. But don’t put the ribbon around that blonde one; put it around yourself.”

Mark bites his lip, but it’s too late, it’s out. Now he’s the one who’s intently staring into his glass.

First Howard winces, then he frowns again, then his brow creases in thought, then a small hint of a little smile emerges on his lips. He looks at Mark.  
“You think that could work?”  
Mark looks up from his water, looks him straight in the eye and says, “most definitely.” He pauses, but only briefly. “You know, sometimes even sober middle-aged men tell the truth.”

The smile Howard graces him with for that is the first thing Mark likes about this party.

And makes him feel a little bit proud of himself.

* * *

“You want what?” The receptionist’s voice has risen at least a minor third. Howard sighs. It’s taken him a good fifteen minutes to convince her that he really is the Howard Donald from Take That and that he’s not some nutter playing a prank on her. And now he can hear how all the newly-built trust between them has crumbled within seconds. He’s started organizing this way too late, that’s for sure.

“I’d like to book the whole hotel from December, 26th to New Year’s Day”, he repeats slowly, trying to sound as earnest and honest and trustworthy as possible.  
“The whole hotel?!” This time it’s a major third for sure.  
“The whole hotel.”  
“Are you insane?”  
“I’m in Take That, so, yeah, kind of.” His blunt honesty has done Howard favours many times before and today it works again. The receptionist seems to relax a little and gets back to business.  
“But you are aware that we’ve already got reservations for that period, we can’t cancel them all, we…”  
“Of course I know that.” And with a slight tone of “but-I’ve-been-in-a-fucking-boyband-long-enough-to-know-what-hotels-can-arrange-if-only-they-want-to” in his friendly voice adds the helpful “I will pay for any inconvenience, I’m sure you can find these people other accommodation…I’ll pay for anything, okay?”

The receptionist lets out a deep sigh, but she’s clever enough to see the opportunity. “I’ve got to speak to the manager about this, I can’t decide this on my own…and it’s on very short notice, so even if he agrees, I can’t promise anything…”  
“You’ll give me a call?”  
She sighs once more. “I’ll give you a call.”  
“Thank you, love.”

* * *

One day, Gary makes a little note to himself in his head, one day I’ll have to tell Dougie not to break news like this to Jason fifteen minutes ahead of a performance. Jason’s a nervous wreck before shows of any kind anyway and everyone knows that and now he’s also choking on a bundle of information Howard has given him a couple of minutes ago, somewhat randomly.

“Jay, about your Christmas present…where are you spending Boxing Day?”  
“Uhm, I’m at Simon’s…why?”  
“In Manchester? Great!” Howard nods happily, deliberately ignores the question marks in Jason’s eyes, and casually continues, “Prepare to be picked up there by, say 5 in the afternoon.”  
“Be picked up? For what…?”  
“Oh, and you should pack for five days, cold weather, expect snow. That’s all.”

Gary’s got no idea what this is all about, and he’s really not surprised Jason’s nervous now.

“Five days? But where are we going?”  
“That’s a surprise, Jay.”  
“Buuut…I have dates and…”  
“Cancel them.”  
“Cancel them??”  
“You wanted a Christmas present, remember?”  
“Oh…” Jason’s face turns even whiter than before. He paces the room up and down.

Gary shoots Howard an angry look. “Was that really necessary? Now?”  
“Don’t be angry with me – it really was all his fault!” Howard points at Robbie.  
“My fault? What the fuck?!?” Robbie plants himself in front of Howard. “Why the fuck is this my fault?”  
“Because if you’d kept your arse in your trousers for once, I’d not have lost that bet!”  
“Please”, Jason shifts from one foot to another uneasily, “please don’t shout.”  
Rob looks at him confusedly, then points at Howard. “But what’s he talking about?”  
“We had a bet going on and I won.” Jason states matter-of-factly.  
“You had a bet on whether or not I’d get my bum out?”  
“Of course.” Jason shrugs his shoulders.  
Rob starts grinning. “And you won?”  
“Obviously.”  
Robbie drags Jason into a hug. “You’re my man!”

And though Rob’s embrace is tight and soothing, Jason still can’t stop worrying.

* * *

Around six p.m. on Christmas Day Jason has annoyed the fuck out of every member of his family and most of his friends. Dominic is busy installing a countdown to the pick-up-time on everyone’s iPhones.

“But what does “expect snow” mean? That really scares me. Who knows where he’ll be taking me? And what he’s got planned there?”  
“Oh, please, not again…”  
“He’s probably only planning to take you somewhere for skiing, Jay. Relax, goodness!”  
“Or he just mentioned the snow to scare you and really he’s taking you to the Bahamas.”  
“My theory is” Oliver lowers his voice for dramatic effect, “that he’ll take you to the North Pole, throw you out of the plane and leave you there to work for Santa for the rest of eternity…”  
“If he survives the fall, that is…”  
“Of course…”  
The only ones not giggling are Jason and Justin.  
“Not funny, this! He probably will throw me out of a plane somewhere. He’s got a weird definition of fun, Howard has!” But no one’s really listening to his whining anymore.

Justin has been watching his twin’s nervousness over the last two days with a strange feeling of happiness. Something tells him that whatever Howard’s got planned is a good thing, a change, a milestone, whatever. But it feels like something wonderful is about to happen – maybe it’s because they’re twins, maybe it’s the spirit of Christmas, maybe it’s the booze, but he can definitely feel something in the air. He hasn’t said anything so far, though. Difficult to get a word in edgewise in this family.  
“I’ve got a theory, too.” Justin’s voice is a bit slurry from the beer, but loud and firm enough to be heard. “I think he’s going to take you somewhere nice and quiet and finally fuck the hell out of you.” He raises his bottle of beer and nods.

Then he gets a cosh around the head from his mum.  
“But, mum…!?”  
“I don’t doubt your theory, love, but there’s no need for foul language.”

Jason frowns and goes on feeling misunderstood. His phone tells him it’s still 23 hours, 12 minutes, and 34 seconds to go.

* * *

23 hours, 12 minutes, and 45 seconds later Howard carefully steers his car out of the drive of Jason’s brother’s house. In the backview mirror he can see the entire Orange family waving them goodbye very merrily. Next to him Jason suffers not quite so merrily, paying the price for trying to fight a hang-over with booze. Howard’s compassion is limited.

“I want you to put this on.” He hands Jason a blindfold and is expecting discussion about it. But the hang-over does him unexpected favours.  
“Oh, brilliant, How. Thank you! You’ve thought of everything, haven’t you?”  
Yes, Howard thinks, I have, even if for entirely different reasons. And so the mask that was meant to keep their journey’s destination secret now serves to soothe Jason’s poor aching head. Not exactly what Howard had planned, but such is life.

Three minutes later Jason’s fast asleep.

No matter how hard Howard tries, but he just can’t be angry with him.

* * *

Jason wakes up under unfamiliar sheets, in an unfamiliar bed, in an unfamiliar room. This alone isn’t enough to scare him, he’s in Take That after all. But then the memory comes back, reminding him he’s not on the road with the lads but been taken to some secret place by Howard and…is that his clothes on the chair over there?

He jumps out of bed frantically. Bad mistake. There’s a pounding pain in his head that painfully reminds him to rather move carefully.

He slowly scans the room. Nothing is familiar. Except for his clothes on one of the chairs and his bag by the door.

At least he’s still got his pants on. And there’s no one in his bed.

Jason really isn’t sure whether he’s sad or happy about that, though. He plans to think about that under the shower.

* * *

Howard hears him wandering around and decides to sing a bit louder and generally produce more noise to give him a hint where he can be found. Which is quite easy because every pan and pot in this kitchen weighs a ton. He puts on the kettle and goes to get more eggs from the fridge.

Finally the heavy door opens and Jason, still only in nothing more than his boxers, pops his head in. “Howard?”  
“Good morning, sleepyhead! Do come in! Fancy some breakfast?”  
“Dunno…?”  
“Coffee?”  
“Oh, yes, please!”  
Howard pours him a large cup. “Why aren’t you wearing anything?”  
“Good question. How did I get here? How did I get into that bed? And out of my clothes? And where are we anyway?”  
“Mmh, that’s a lot of questions, let’s see…well, I drove you. Basically on your own, with a little help from myself. Same for getting out of your clothes, less help from me there, boy, you’re really good at that! And we’re an hour’s drive from Glasgow.”  
“It seems familiar…”  
“It’s the little hotel we stayed in on tour…”  
“Ah, yeah, of course…” Jason blows into his coffee cup. Less to cool it, but more to win a little time. “It’s a wonderful place. Great idea to…take us here? Is that my present?”  
“Maybe…” Howard stirs the eggs. Less because they need stirring, but more to win a little time. “…have a bit of quiet, enjoy nature – have you seen it’s snowing? We’ve got a billiard table, and a pool, and there’s a huge library…”  
“And they even let us use the kitchen?”  
“They let us use everything.”  
“But what about the other guests?”  
“You didn’t care too much about them when you left your room like this, did you?” Howard points the stirrer into the direction of Jason’s boxers. Jason manages to blush a little bit.  
“Oi. Didn’t do much thinking…”  
“Don’t worry. There are no other guests.”

A wave of relief flushes through Jason’s body. And it’s not because no one saw him in his boxers only.

“So, my present’s five days here”, he gestures a wide circle, “with the snow and nothing to do?”  
Howard has to clear his throat before he can answer. “Yep. Basically.”

Jason places the coffee cup on the kitchen bar and slowly walks towards Howard. “Sounds great, mate.”  
“Thought you’d like it.”

Jason gets a little bit closer. The eggs are sizzling in the pan. Jason looks Howard in the eyes, deep, long, questioning. Outside the snow is falling. Howard swallows hard.

Jason takes another step closer, their bodies now almost in contact. Almost. “And if I find something else here that I like…?”  
Howard is surprisingly quick to answer. “You can keep it.”  
“Whatever it is?”  
“Whatever it is.”

Jason would like to tell Howard that this is the best present he’s ever got. And that he’s totally happy that Justin’s theory was right and not Oliver’s. And that he’s not scared anymore and that he loves him, that he always has, and that he’s just simply the best person in his life ever and that he feels ridiculously happy right now. But then he figures there’s an easier way to let him know all of that and more without having to say a single word.

The eggs burn while Jason kisses the fuck out of Howard.

The snow keeps on falling while Howard fu…, erm, does things to Jason that will not be explicitly described here. Because as Jenny Orange has said, there’s no need for foul language.

Five days and a lot of wonderful things later Jason takes Howard home with him. To keep.


End file.
